Friday night lite

I remember when Friday nights used to be the biggest night of my week. All day, the anticipation would build. Where would we go? What would we do? What would we wear for Heaven’s sake?

The phone calls would fly back and forth (back in the days before texts, we actually spoke to each other about our plans – oh, the novelty).

No matter what the decided plans, I had one friend who always said the same thing: “Should be good.” Always.

Knock-off time would arrive and I’d be out the door, with the rest of the smiling throng, dodging suits on the footpath as I hot-footed it in the direction of the chosen venue. And then we’d sit and have a few drinks, unwinding, laughing, venting, before heading deeper into the night in search of dinner (sometimes) and dancing (always). Always wondering if tonight might be the night we’d stumble (probably literally) over The One.

It’s Friday night tonight. I will have an easy dinner, a long bath (that’s my tub up there) and a date with my book on the sofa. I will wear the most comfortable pair of pyjamas I can find. I will hang out with The One.